


Unfocused Eyes

by WhumpTown



Series: Whumping Satan [1]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Hurt Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Stepsatan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-28 10:40:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20062666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhumpTown/pseuds/WhumpTown
Summary: Lucifer becomes far too mortal for Trixie to feel safe





	Unfocused Eyes

He wears his Father’s Day gift to her freshman orientation. The whole time he made fun of the University of California's attempts to wow them with their dedication. Kids, four to three years older than her, decked out in blue and gold shouting and proclaiming weird chants all around them. Lucifer sits back, less than wowed and still confused as to how _this_ is the school she wants to go to. None-the-less he supports her decision. Despite his black t-shirt proclaiming him as ‘The World’s Okayest Dad’ he buys himself a blue and gold shirt that says ‘I’m a Proud Parent of a University of California Oski!’. He shows her it, holding it up to his chest and offering to go find her mother one that says the same. Chloe picks a far simpler jersey and calls it even.

Lucifer found his grey hair when she was ten. It was poking through his beard for two days before he noticed it himself. At the time, most of his attention was on Trixie and the standardized test she was to take at the end of the week. She cried about them four times that very day before he managed to break away from her clingy hands and shower. She heard his shout from the bathroom. Her mother ran to see what was wrong, to no surprise he was being a little bit of a drama queen. When he comes back out, hair dry and in the sweatpants, he’d been in earlier he comes back to where she is curled up on the couch. Pointed, but with no real anger, he shakes his head at her,” you’ve given me a grey hair you little urchin.” She gives him far more over the years.

Like when her first serious boyfriend breaks up with her, she sobs into his shoulder for hours. He begs Chloe to tell him how to make it better. He can’t stand to see her in so much pain and he goes as far as to pray to his father to stop Trixie’s pain. Eventually, he finds out that enough romance movies and ice cream do the trick. She stops crying and after three days she comes out of her room at 8 o’clock in the morning, showered, and dressed for the day. When he offers her more comfort foods she asks for an omelet instead. “Lucifer?” She eats her omelet and he can feel her eyes tearing holes in his resolve. “I’m a bad bitch. I don’t need a man,” she stabs her omelet and he agrees. Mostly because he’s not sure what she means by that and he doesn’t want to find out.

There’s no cut and dry moment when he slipped from his role as her mother’s unruly friend to her father. One day he just stopped wiggling from her grip. He started picking her up at school and hugging her when she feels down. He goes from jet black hair, tempting eyes, and smoothe talking tongue to the strong arm around her waist as she leans over high balcony railings. He stops surprising her with his random affection and his hair grows greyer each fall. He becomes altogether too human and she finds that she hates it.

Chloe wrangles Lucifer on to the couch, the two of them arguing softly about whether or not Lucifer should be sitting at the kitchen table. Lucifer argues that his wrist is broken not his ass. Chloe presses a soft kiss to his temple, knowing very well that he’s arguing for the sake of appearance. At the hospital, it had just been the two of them and he was in pain, that much he hadn’t bothered to hide from her. Now, he’ll hide everything he can from the others. Some sort of show of strength.

“Dad,” Trixie sits on the edge of the couch. Their couch is long, she can remember the day they went to buy a new one. Chloe and Lucifer were dead set on finding one that Lucifer could sit on long ways without his legs dangling off. While he can sit on one end and stretch out without draping or dangling, with his head buried in the cushion his long legs dangle oddly off the couch. Her mother has pushed the coffee table up to the couch and his legs rest there, stretching out the knee the doctors have wrapped up and iced. 

He pulls his attention from the TV, his heavy eye-lids giving away that he’s napping more than he is paying attention to whatever drama is happening on screen. At the moment, he can’t remember how he got home. Trixie’s here though and he wonders what she’s doing out of school. She could have test. She should be studying. He narrows his eyes and blinks sluggishly. 

Trixie looks away. It feels wrong. Lucifer hides all of his feelings, except the maladaptive ones and to see him so full of worry, so blatantly emotional…

“Trixie!”

Right, she was sent to see if he could handle food not get all emotional. So she shakes his good shoulder and waits for him to look semi-attentive,” mom wants to know if you’re hungry. She made you some… I don’t know but it isn’t burnt so I imagine it can’t taste that bad.” She furrows her brow when he runs his hand over his face and gets lost in looking at the window across from the couch. “Right,” she stands, sliding off the side of the couch, and comes around to look at her stepfather a little better. His eyes are unfocused but that’s probably because of the concussion and the stitches on his eyebrow. “I’ll just tell mom no.”

Dinner goes as smoothly as it always does, Charlie rushes to get to the ice cream he knows Chloe has and Trixie eats as fast as she can so she can lock herself in her room and like _this_ isn’t happening. Even without Lucifer, it’s chaos.

“Go give this to your father.” Trixie isn’t expecting to be handed the ice cream. She was 95% sure she was free to go, no more awkward talk about Lucifer or hospitals or- “Change the channel while you’re in there. Golden Girls is about to come on and concussed or not he’s gonna act like a baby if he misses the marathon.” Trixie can’t even say no, her mother’s already walking back to the dining room. 

When she gets to the living room, Lucifer’s sitting up. She’s not sure how, her mom said something about cracked ribs, but she doesn’t test it. He’s already got Golden Girls on and he looks more asleep than awake, Trixie almost thinks about watching the marathon too. Instead, she offers him the ice cream and he shakes his head,” if I eat that I’m going to end up throwing it up. Ice cream isn’t that good coming up.” 

He grimaces and pats the couch beside him,” I could use a TV buddy." He’s her best friend. He’s been the best step-father anyone could ask for. Kept her secrets and protected her in ways she probably doesn’t even know about. He doesn’t get sick, despite his crash from immortality to mortality. It scares her and she can only think to distance herself to make the fear go away. Still, with everything telling her to go hide in her room and dig Miss Alein out from under whatever dresser or a pile of clothes she’s under she plants herself right beside him. 

Her mother told her it was supposed to be a run of the mill thing. Something about car theft and some guys that Ella assured them were harmless. They were, too, but the guys that they were hired by not so much. Things went bad and, while no shots were fired, Lucifer managed to get run over by a car. By some probably immortal not completely worn off luck, he walked away with a grade two concussion, a pretty mangled knee, three cracked ribs, a broken wrist, and dislocated a shoulder. Chloe walked away unharmed, Lucifer saw it all as a complete win.

“You’re sleeping,” she nudges him with her shoulder and he hums in response. He makes it ten more minutes before he snores, nearly waking himself up. She almost leaves him but decides to scoot closer and steal some of his blankets. She hesitates, unsure if she’ll hurt him or make him uncomfortable, but places her head against his shoulder. Granted it’s the uninjured shoulder but he still moves. Not away. Instead, he cracks an eye to see her smirk at something someone says. He wraps an arm around her shoulder and settles back down. Despite his rebelling stomach and pulsing brain, he falls back asleep like it’s nothing. 

Trixie does too. He’s mortal now, she doesn’t like it, but he’s not leaving. So neither is she.


End file.
